


Nature of the Beast

by Jenshih_Blue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Gen, Season/Series 04, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-22
Updated: 2012-07-22
Packaged: 2017-11-10 10:54:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/465470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenshih_Blue/pseuds/Jenshih_Blue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel has fought the beginnings of his own humanity for so long he's grown tired. Now he learns what it is to grieve and how sometimes there are certain things you can't change-even if you're an angel, broken or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nature of the Beast

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: For a few reasons, this tale falls into the AU category, although it does follow canon to an extent. Death didn't end up being of the female persuasion, although in my opinion that would be wicked cool!

_ _

 

 

 _“You do remember him? How strong he was? How beautiful? And he didn't bow to humanity. He was punished for defending us. Now, if you want to believe in something, Cass, believe in him.”_  
  
The words of Uriel, his fallen brother, echoed in Castiel’s ears as he stared down on what remained of Carthage. He glided down through its streets, stench of death on the wind that stirred up the ashes of humanity surrounding him. The Reapers are gone now, the streets empty, and his heart bleeds for these innocents that did not ask for this end. He’d trusted Uriel, been betrayed, and now—  
  
He moved through the carnage that his brother had left in his wake. Soon he left behind the remains of the town; approaching the farmland outside its borders. The stench of death rose as he grew closer and he wondered if he could have stopped this. If for one moment he’d used what Dean told him was instinct that everyone would have survived. If those who had come to stop his brother would now be setting in Bobby’s house still working the problem that faced them.  
  
 _I’m so new to this life,_ he thought.  
  
Coming to the crest of the hill, he alighted upon the earth, and glanced down to see the scattered bodies of those who had been possessed. Even the demons hadn’t stood a chance. His gaze moved over what amounted to a battlefield and settled on the gaping hole in the center, the dust still settling. He didn’t sense his brother near, but he did sense something that was familiar and ancient.  
  
“Hello, Sariel.”  
  
A sigh of warm breathe ghosted against the back of his neck, sweet scent of jasmine burning away the stench of rot. “Castiel, it is good to see you again.”  
  
He turned to face Sariel and the vision before him overwhelmed him in its beauty. “You can’t do this.” He offered even as he stared into her opaque eyes with doubt.  
  
“This is what I was created for, Castiel. Our Father created me for this purpose and we all understood it would come again.” Her dark hair twisted around her milk white face as she drew nearer. “I am the pale rider even the humans know that.”  
  
“Not for Lucifer.”  
  
The corner of her mouth twitched, blood red lips curling in a half-smile. “Lucifer is just a means to an end. Just as the brothers are that you seek to protect.”  
  
Castiel frowned, eyes narrowing. “What do you know of the ones I watch over? Shouldn’t you be following your new master?”  
  
She threw back her head laughing, the sound rich and dark spilling from her parted lips. When she lowered her head though, there was no amusement in her expression. “No one masters Death, Castiel. Only my creator could do that and he is dead.”  
  
“Is he?” He reached beneath the collar of his shirt and pulled out the bronze amulet that Dean, his charge, had relinquished to him.  
  
Sariel’s eyes widened. “Where did you find that?”  
  
A faint smirk played across his lips. “What’s wrong, Sariel? Are you afraid I will find our Father?”  
  
“No.” her voice lowered.  
  
“Then what do you fear?” Castiel demanded.  
  
She snorted. “Death fears nothing.”  
  
“Sariel, my sister,” he dropped the amulet back beneath his shirt, head cocked as he studied her face. “You are not a good liar. Dean has taught me what a good lie is and that is not it.”  
  
“These humans have corrupted you,” she growled, eyes narrowed.  
  
It was his turn to smile this time. “No, they have opened my eyes.”  
  
Shaking her head, Sariel turned away. “You won’t succeed. Our Father always knew that this time would come. He must cleanse this world again and I am one of those who have been given the job to see it is done.”  
  
“If not for Lucifer you would not be free.”  
  
She glanced over her shoulder. “And if not for one of your precious humans our fallen brother would not walk free again.” Heading down the hill, she motioned with one hand and a car appeared; black ‘68 Stingray Corvette convertible a skeletal horse galloping along the side. “Castiel,” she called out.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Suddenly she was in the driver’s seat, engine revving as she glanced up with an amused smile. “Be careful with that toy of yours. You might not like what you find.”  
  
With a roar, the car surged up the road leaving behind a cloud of dust, and the stench of burnt rubber. He watched as the car vanished into the night and then he shifted his gaze to the night sky. Above him, the stars sparkled, shards of crystal against the darkness. He’d made mistakes, but Sariel was wrong, he thought. He wanted to find his Father and he knew in his heart that he lived.  
  
God is omnipotent and death cannot touch him.  
  
Unfurling his wings, Castiel captured the wind, and glided upward into the night sky. He sped across the landscape, the freedom of flight and hope guiding him. He’d returned Sam and Dean to the only home they knew and though he could not feel them, he knew they had remained there. For that assumption, he had no need of his angelic power.  
  
  
#  
  
  
Hundreds of miles away, on the trunk of one of the multitude of wrecked cars that littered the property surrounding Bobby’s house, Dean sat alone and nursed a beer. His gaze focused on the night sky, the gleam of stars reflected in the tears that he refused to shed. He blamed himself for Ellen and Jo even though he knew death was a part of the job.  
  
He recalled sitting on the hood of the Impala years ago with his father, a boy of eleven, and Sammy sleeping in the back seat. John had looked so big then, an insurmountable giant of a hero that no monster could take down. He remembered the rumble of John’s voice in one of his gentler moments as he told him that the Greeks believed sometimes that the Gods rewarded heroes often with a home among the stars. He told him that Mary, his mother was there, for she was a true hero.  
  
Now as he sat here alone, his father’s voice a faint memory, he imagined that if he squinted just right he could see Ellen and Jo among those sparkling Elysian Fields. He never really believed in heaven until he met Castiel and even now, he had his doubts. He hoped that there was a place of peace for those who had passed from this life. He would never admit that to his brother though.  
  
As he tipped the beer to his lips, eyes focused on the distant stars, the soft whisper of wings filled the silence. He didn’t need to look to know it was Cass. “How did you know we were still here?”  
  
“It is the only place I know you feel safe.”  
  
Castiel, since his appearance in their lives, had irritated him to no end. Recently, though, perhaps thanks to Zachariah’s little mind games, he’d found himself comforted by the angel’s presence. It was almost as if somehow they were connected. He turned to glance at his silent companion and sighed. No matter how hard he tried, Cass was, and always would be, an alien to this life. He knew that Cass missed his brothers and sisters, his home that Dean couldn’t image even in his wildest dreams. Sadness lingered in his sapphire eyes, a longing for home and hearth that Dean would not have believed if he didn’t feel it himself.  
  
“Sariel has risen as I am sure you know.” Castiel didn’t blink or even budge as he made his announcement.  
  
Dean cocked one eyebrow as he took another pull on his beer. Lowering the bottle, he ran the back of his hand across his lips, “Sariel?”  
  
“Yes,” this time Castiel turned, sharp gaze focused on Dean, “the pale rider. She begins her journey.” He turned away and glanced up at the stars, offering nothing more.  
  
“So, the Angel of Death,” Dean cleared his throat, “is a chick? Is she hot?”  
  
An odd expression crossed Cass’ profile, vanishing almost as quickly as it appeared. “This is not a joking matter, Dean. Sariel is older than Lucifer and she possesses power beyond imagining.”  
  
Dean slid from the trunk, dust rising as his boots hit the ground. “You don’t think I know that, Cass?” he snapped. “I just lost two friends…fuck family!”  
  
“I understand that. Ellen and Jo made a heroic sacrifice and they will be rewarded.”  
  
Dean’s face flushed scarlet as he moved closer, “Rewarded?” his voice rose and his eyes filled with pure anger. “They shouldn’t have died in the first place!”  
  
Turning to face him, the muscles in his jaw twitching Castiel met his anger head on. “In war there are always losses. You are a soldier, Dean, just as I am and you should know that. It does not make the loss any easier to bear.”  
  
Something in Castiel’s eyes made Dean shiver and he turned away. “What do you know about loss?” he spit out gaze lifting to starry sky.  
  
“You speak as if you do not believe I am capable of emotion.” A hint of sadness crept into Castiel’s words. “You will never understand what it is to be one of God’s soldiers.”  
  
Dean spun, flinging the beer bottle across the yard, glass shattering against one of the rusted hulks that surrounded them. “I understand completely! You seem to forget that Anna told me what your holy fucking existence is like.”  
  
Gaze dropping to the ground, Castiel sighed. “Anna was different.”  
  
“Different?” Dean demanded moving forward and tilting his head trying to catch Cass’ gaze.  
  
“What because she chose to fall? Because she refused to be a good little soldier to a father she’d never seen?”  
  
“No,” he whispered as he lifted his head eyes focused on Dean’s furious expression. “Anna was special, different before she ever fell to the earth. There was a curiosity to her and she was all the more beautiful for it. If only you could have looked upon her true form.” Tears formed in Castiel’s eyes as he lifted his face to the night sky.  
  
Shocked by what he saw in Cass’ expression, Dean shook his head, but just as quickly as it appeared, it vanished. Despite everything they’d been through Dean had never really paid attention to the changes in Cass. He cleared his throat, trying to find the words, but before he could ask, there was the rush of wind and Castiel was gone.  
  
  
#  
  
  
Sam sat staring into the flames that danced in the fireplace and all he saw was the building where they’d left Jo and Ellen—the flames shooting to the sky. The fire reflected in his eyes repeatedly until he could feel his own skin begin to blister.  
  
“Sam.”  
  
He jerked out of the reverie he’d slipped into at the gentle touch on his wrist and looked up into Castiel’s sapphire eyes. “Cass?” confusion played across his face in a dance of light and shadow.  
  
“Hurting yourself won’t bring them back.”  
  
He glanced down at where Castiel’s fingers curled around his bare wrist and a look of understanding crossed his face. “I didn’t mean to…” his words trailed off as Castiel released him and he drew his hand up to study the faint redness of the skin.  
  
Castiel squatted down next to him. “I know you did not mean to, but you did.” He paused, eyes focused on the flames, intense concentration drawing his brows together in a frown. “This is human grief?”  
  
“Yes,” Sam sighed.  
  
“You know that they wished to do this.”  
  
“It doesn’t make it any easier, Cass.”  
  
Castiel nodded, deep in thought.  
  
“Cass?”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
Sam turned to look at him through the tangle of his bangs, tears glittering on his cheeks in the light of the fire. “Do you think they went to…well you know.”  
  
Standing Castiel squeezed his shoulder. “They were heroes, Sam, warriors of light. All who sacrifice for the side of good are rewarded.”  
  
Before Sam could reply, there was a rush of wind, and he found himself alone once more.  
  
  
#  
  
  
Standing on the edge of the massive dam, Castiel stared out into the darkness at the flowing waters of the Snake River, the wind whipping his trench coat around his legs. He didn’t even flinch when the wind switched directions without warning and turned cold as ice.  
  
“And they say angels have no sense of humor.”  
  
“Thank you for coming, Sariel.” He continued to stare out across the river that wound through the canyon.  
  
Sariel sighed as she moved closer to the edge, long black leather coat whipping around her calves. “Hell’s Canyon,” she mused. “Whoever named this place has never walked through Hell. Castiel, why did you call me here?”  
  
“I wish you to do me a favor.”  
  
She turned, opaque eyes glowing in the darkness, “A favor? Exactly why would I do that, Castiel? I have more important things to do than grant favors to foot soldiers.”  
  
He inhaled and looked into her eyes. “I am willing to pay you.”  
  
“Pay me?” Sariel threw back her headed laughing hysterically. “What could you possibly want that you would pay for? And exactly what could you pay me with?”  
  
“Myself.”  
  
Her laughter halted, silence closing in around them, “Yourself?”  
  
“Yes.” He turned away from her eerie gaze, shudder travelling through his body.  
  
Sariel stepped in front of him, one cold hand reaching out to grasp his chin, and force his head up. “Have you lost all sense? What you are offering me is precious.”  
  
“I am aware of that.”  
  
“Are you?” she cocked her head to the side, eyes narrowing until they were two glowing slits.  
  
“Correct me if I am wrong here, but you are offering me your _Grace_.”  
  
“Yes, I am.”  
  
“What could possibly be so important to you that you would be willing to rip your own _Grace_ out and hand it over to me?”  
  
Castiel turned his gaze to the night sky, eyes shining. “Two human souls,” he whispered.  
  
“Human souls?”  
  
“Yes,” his gaze lowered back to her face.  
  
“And do these souls have names?”  
  
“Ellen and Jo Harvelle.”  
  
Understanding gleamed in her eyes. “The two women who sacrificed themselves to protect the Winchester brothers back in Carthage.” Sariel shook her head. “Although your offer is tempting, my brother, I cannot accept. It would be impossible for me to give you what you desire.”  
  
“Sariel, please.” his voice cracked as she turned away. “You have the power to…”  
  
She halted a few feet away. “No, my brother, you do not understand. I did not take them—the Reapers did. I may be Death, but what I do is not the same as the Reapers.”  
  
“But there must be something you can do, Sariel. Our Father created you as the ultimate representation of death.”  
  
Sariel turned to face Castiel and what she saw in his eyes angered her. “Castiel, you have allowed these humans to pollute you. We are higher beings, beyond mortal concerns, and emotions…”  
  
“They were my friends.”  
  
“They were humans who made their choice. Our Father gave them free-will.”  
  
He frowned, his eyes beginning to glow softly. “Did he? Listen to yourself, Sariel; you’re toeing the company line.”  
  
Eyebrow quirking up in amusement she chuckled. “Toeing the company line? This is what I meant. There is no company line these creatures have polluted you with their…emotions.” Her lips pursed as if she had tasted something nasty. “You chose to walk away from your brethren and to be honest your _Grace_ has been tainted. Even if I could, I would not do it. Part of being human is death. That my brother is just the nature of the beast.”  
  
In a rush of icy wind, she vanished leaving him alone once more. He swallowed hard, a bitter taste in the back of his throat. Lifting his face to the sky he screamed as loud as he could with no understanding of why or what this was he felt.  
  
Clouds rolled in along the horizon and his cry released the rain that threatened, lightening crashing around him, air stinking of ozone as it ripped open the sky. His body began to shake until he feared it would rip to shreds and then he fell to his knees.  
  
He screamed. “Why must it be like this, Father? They were innocents!”  
  
No answer came.  
  
“They were my friends, my…family…” his voice trailed off on the wind.  
  
He raised one trembling hand to his face, fingertips swiping across his cheek. As he glanced at the hot salty moisture that stained his fingers, he realized that Sariel was right about one thing and one thing only. No longer was he like the others.  
  
Pushing up from the ground, he took a deep breath, ethereal wings unfurling and glowing in the flash of lightening. His face lifted to the storm swept sky, his tears washed away by the cool rain. Beneath the soaked cotton of his shirt he could feel the warmth and weight of Dean’s amulet against his bare skin.  
  
“Someone brought me back,” he sighed. “Only you had the power to do that. I will find you and you will answer my questions even if it destroys me.  
  
  
#  
  
  
That had been when he still possessed faith. Now he didn’t give a damn.  
  
Standing there, in the dark warehouse, surrounded by Ahadiel and his enforcers, Castiel sneered in disgust. They claimed to be the loyalist of God’s warriors, but they were idiots, listening to Zachariah and his flunkies. They’d lost their in faith in God just as much as he had. They were just too stubborn and prideful to admit it. That pride would be their downfall just as it had been Lucifer’s and eventually Michael’s as well.  
  
When he ripped open his shirt there was a split-second when he doubted his choice, but the look in the eyes of Ahadiel told him not to doubt. His Father might have let him down, Dean might have let him down, but he would be damned if he would let himself down—or Sam.  
  
Without another moment of doubt, he slammed his hand against his chest. The shriek of the enforcers and their leader filled the air as the power of the sigil ripped them through the ether. His last thought was of Sariel’s words that night on the dam.  
  
He’d rather be a beast than a monster like Zachariah.  
  
  
#  
  
  
 _“Castiel, my brother, what have you done?”  
  
“He has done exactly what I hoped he would do.”  
  
“Betrayed our brethren?”  
  
“You imagine you understand both my mind and actions. At least Joshua does not. He does what I ask of him without question.”  
  
“But Dean was about to give himself to Michael as it was written.”  
  
“Yes, as it was written and who do you believe wrote these things?”  
  
“The Prophets put prophecy to paper.”  
  
“Yes, my child, but from where do the Prophets receive these prophecies?”_  
  
  
#  
  
  
“Open your eyes, Castiel.”  
  
He tried, but it hurt to move even in the slightest. “Who…?”  
  
A soft trill of words washed over him in Enochian and the pain eased. “Open your eyes, brother, and look upon me.”  
  
As he forced his eyes to open brilliance filled his vision that should have been blinding, but instead was comforting. Slowly it faded away and a woman with ebony skin looked down on him, eyes the color of fresh-bloomed lilacs. “Where am I?” he tried to set up, but she pushed him back with a gentle hand.  
  
“It matters not for you are protected here. I am Derdekea, but you, my brother, may call me Kea.”  
  
Castiel couldn’t believe who stood before him. For centuries, there had been whispers within the ranks of the garrison about Derdekea, the Supreme Mother. Many of his fellows had believed her nothing but a legend created by humans who refused to believe that God was a man. Of course that was silly for God was more than a man—God was God.  
  
He bowed his head, ashamed to be looking into the face of the angel who held the salvation of mankind within her hands. She must see how he had failed and he had no right to witness her beauty. So much of what he’d believed had been shattered, yet this he’d held close and wondered about even as his brothers and sisters decided she was a human fairytale.  
  
“Why do you look away, Castiel?”  
  
“Because you are the one,” he offered in explanation.  
  
Her laughter was soft, a whisper of warm wind against his vessel’s skin and he dared to peer up at her through his lashes. There was warmth in her gentle expression as she sat down on the edge of the bed where he rested. “I am no more than you are, brother.”  
  
“My fellows in the garrison spoke of you. They said humans created you and that you were thought to hold their salvation in your hands.”  
  
Shaking her head, she stood, smoothing the white cotton dress she wore, skirt swirling around her legs as she moved across the room on bare feet. “Humans did not create me. I came into being at the hand of our Father at the same moment my sister Sariel was created.”  
  
“Sariel?” he pushed up from the bed, the room spinning for a moment. “But you are…and she is…”  
  
She paused at a window he hadn’t noticed before. “Sariel and I have far more in common than you might believe, Castiel. For at times, humans find salvation in Death’s embrace. You should understand this better than anyone for you witnessed his death…” her voice trailed off as she stared out the window into the distance.  
  
Castiel flinched at the distant memory. Yes, he’d been present with many of his garrison that day on a distant hill when a man had found salvation not just for himself, but also for humanity in Death’s embrace. He shuddered, as his skin grew cold with fear. “She told you what I did.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“You must despise me.”  
  
She turned to face him, slender eyebrows drawn together in a faint frown. “Why must I despise you? If that were the case then I would have allowed that fool Ahadiel and his enforcers to kill you. I doubt our Father would have the patience to bring you back a second time.”  
  
Those words not only brought confirmation to what he’d once believed, but a lightness within him that he’d lost the night the Winchesters had delivered Joshua’s message to him. His heart had broken that night and his _Grace_ had faded a little more. Now though—  
  
Her frown deepened. “You did not know? How could you doubt?”  
  
“I did not think that he cared. What Joshua told the Winchesters—the message was clear.”  
  
Face softening Kea moved back to his side. “Joshua is very much like a prophet. He only delivers the message and he has no insight into our Father’s mind or heart. Did you not think that your presence in this fight is because he wanted you here? That perhaps our Father has a plan that none can understand, but those he chooses to reveal it to?” She held her hand out and he accepted it hesitantly. “He sent the order for you to retrieve Dean from Perdition. When you’re life ended he resurrected you.”  
  
As she pulled Castiel to his feet, she reached up and ran the back of her hand along his face, a look of hope shining in her eyes. He could feel a flush of heat sweep up his throat, into his face, and he discovered himself leaning into her touch. It had been too long since one of his brethren had touched him with something other than violence and he found he’d longed for it far more than he cared to admit. Her long slender fingers swept down to cup his chin and urged him to look up.  
  
“I know you are angry and hurt, my brother, but you are not alone. Your charge has chosen wisely. Zachariah is dead, by his hand, and he and his brother have escaped.”  
  
Castiel blinked. “Zachariah is dead?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“But only an angel can kill another angel.”  
  
Eyes twinkling, Kea chuckled. “They really did not tell you anything—did they? Why do you think that Samuel and Dean were chosen to be vessels?”  
  
“I only followed orders in the beginning, so I never gave it much thought.”  
  
“Perhaps, you should have. What Michael told Dean was a half-truth. It is their bloodline, but not going back to Cain and Abel. It goes back to the fall of the Watchers, and their leader—Azazel.”  
  
That definitely had Castiel’s attention now, “Lucifer’s servant—the yellow-eyed demon that killed their parents?”  
  
“Yes. Azazel was one of us, but I doubt the Winchesters ever gave it much thought. He led three hundred of our brethren to their doom. He convinced them that their lust for human women was justified. They descended and mated with those women and thus the Nephilim were born—half-angel, half-human and an abomination in our Father’s eyes.”  
  
He shook his head, turning away from her steady gaze he moved across the room, eyes lifting to the ceiling as he exhaled a harsh breath. “They were destroyed.”  
  
“Not all of them died in the Great Flood. Azazel and his followers might have been wicked, but they loved their children. They hid away five of the Nephilim beneath the flooded earth and when the waters receded, they rose from the darkness and hid among the humans. Samuel and Dean Winchester were born of two of those bloodlines, two of the most powerful. They carry within them the gift of the vessel just as Jimmy Novak and his daughter Claire were born with the gift.”  
  
What she said made perfect sense and yet…  
  
“Where are they?”  
  
Kea lifted one slender eyebrow, eyes glowing with soft light, as she seemed to focus on a distant point. Then she began to speak. “You must go to them. Samuel has been revealed…Lucifer is coming for him.”  
  
“That’s impossible. I marked them both with the Enochian…”  
  
“It has been wiped from his bones.”  
  
Castiel felt his chest tighten at her words. “Who could do this?”  
  
“Kali,” she whispered.  
  
“Kali? Why would a pagan goddess do that?”  
  
Face blanching, Kea snapped out of self-induced trance. “You need to go now. The fools believe they can kill Lucifer. They’ve summoned him and he’s coming. Go! Now!”  
  
Castiel reached out and immediately felt Sam. He couldn’t feel Dean, but he knew if Sam were there then Dean was nearby. He gave Kea a sidelong glance and then unfurled his wings, slipping into the ether and vanishing.  
  
  
#  
  
  
Death.  
  
He could sense her presence before he smelled it. Raw and bloody just like in Carthage, but this time it was not human or demon death. He wept for the death of the beings far older than even he, ones of incredible power, and one brother.  
  
Alighting to the floor, his wings drawn inward, he stood over Gabriel vision blurring as he stared at the sword jutting from his abdomen. How could Lucifer kill Gabriel? Never in their existence had an archangel died least of all by the hand of one of their own. True Lucifer had fallen, but he was still one of them. His gaze traced the scorched imprint of wings that had once glided through the ether and he recalled the first time he had laid eyes upon Gabriel.  
  
He knelt and wrapped his hands around the hilt of the blade, pulling it free from the lifeless body of his brother. Gabriel had always been different from the others; smile of such brilliance and famous among the lower echelons for his sense of humor. He deserved better than this, he thought.  
  
“I am sorry, Castiel.”  
  
Jaw tightening he looked up at Sariel and slowly stood. “Sorry?” he growled. “This is your fault!”  
  
She shook her head, dark curls stirring in the cold breeze that seemed to follow her wherever she walked. “I did not kill, Gabriel. You know that and yet you would turn your anger on me.”  
  
Moving into her space, he clenched his fists, fury boiling through his veins. “You may not have thrust the sword that took his life, but your presence caused this.” Castiel flung one hand out motioning at the already crumbling motel, the stench of death vile and bitter in the air. “Had he not released you he would not have had the power to destroy his brother.”  
  
Sariel glanced down at the body at her feet. “Gabriel chose his own destiny. He knew I walked the Earth again and yet he still confronted Lucifer. His death was of his own choosing.”  
  
Lashing out, Castiel slammed his fist into Sariel’s jaw her head jerking to the side. She turned back to stare at him with emotionless opaque eyes. “That one was free, Castiel, there will not be another.”  
  
He turned his back without a word and knelt again, lifting Gabriel in his arms, the drag of invisible wings heavy as the weight of the world. As he moved toward the door, silent, head bowed in grief, he considered Sariel’s warning then paused taking a deep breath. “Sariel, pray we don’t meet again.”  
  
“Or what little brother?” her voice held a hint of amusement.  
  
He turned dangerous gleam in his eyes. “I will kill you.” His gaze lowered to her hand where the source of her power lay, a shining band of silver set with obsidian stones and etched with glyphs. “Trust in that for what it is.” Eyes lifting he focused on her pale face.  
  
“You can’t kill me—I am Death. These humans have twisted your mind with their ignorant ideas of overcoming my influence.” She sniffed in disgust.  
  
“Perhaps,” Castiel’s eyes narrowed, “then again grief can do odd things to even an angel. It is after all the nature of the beast. Was that not what you told me yourself?”  
  
Confusion flickered in her eyes. “Are you comparing yourself to those beasts?”  
  
Mouth quirked in a wicked half-smile Castiel turned his back to Sariel. “Better that I become as one of the beasts than a monster like you and Lucifer.”  
  
Before she could reply, his wings spread out, Gabriel cradled to his chest, and he was gone in a rush of warm wind. For a few seconds Sariel stood there amidst the rubble of Lucifer’s fury and violence staring at the spot where Castiel had vanished. _This soldier has gone rogue_ , she thought. There was no way he could destroy her—was there?  
  
Shaking her head, she chuckled to herself, but it even sounded odd to her ears. This was going to be one hell of an apocalypse. Lifting her hand she whispered a few words beneath her breath and the bodies of the pagan gods turned to shimmering dust, swirling up and around her as she moved through the building, curling around her body and down her arm to be absorbed into the shining obsidian stones of her ring.  
  
She needed to speak with Derdekea and find out where those bothersome Winchesters had vanished to before they got their hands on her brother Pestilence. At the front door, she paused and glanced back into the darkness. Strange, she thought, Gabriel’s _Grace_ was nowhere within, although she was sure it should have been. She turned back to the night, striding across the crumbling parking lot and with a wave of her hand, the building collapsed into a heap of rubble.  
  
It didn’t matter.  
  
Eventually she would find it and then it would nourish her as all deaths did--now.  
  
~Finis~


End file.
